Beyond the Darkness
by Losseniaiel
Summary: If he could change one thing it would be this ... but now it is too late, and he is falling... Haldir's reflections during and after the battle of Helm's Deep


**                                                                                    Beyond the Darkness**

**Disclaimers:** Not mine, no matter how much I hope.  This entire world belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and his estate.

**Rating:** PG-13 for some sexual suggestiveness.

**Summary:** If he could change one thing, it would be this… but now it is too late, and he is falling…  Haldir after Helm's Deep.  Movie-verse, in other words Haldir goes to battle and dies at Helm's Deep.  Haldir/Legolas so this is SLASH.  That means two men in a sexual relationship.  If that bothers you, don't read this and certainly don't waste time flaming me about it.

**A/N:** In this Haldir will be re-housed rather than reborn.  I'm taking this approach out of pure expediency, but I'll defend myself with this: it's not entirely unprecedented, and you should never try to second-guess a Vala.

**Feedback:** Please *wounded puppy eyes* I need feedback to feed by muse.

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There was blood … so much blood.  Even above the vile stench of the battle it rose in a single soaring note which pierced his fading senses.  The iron tang stung his tongue, burning like hot soup.

He reeled and stumbled backwards, suddenly so tired that he could no longer stand; his legs would no longer bear him.

Faintly he could hear someone yelling his name in a hoarse voice and he was cradled against dented armour, but nothing seemed real, nothing seemed to be close to him anymore.

Dimly, as if it came from a great distance, or from across the years, resounding from the War of Wrath, he heard the dull cacophony of battle still raging but he was no longer part of it; it was no longer part of him.  He was freed from its dreadful roar and sorrow, floating away …

As he was gently lowered to the ground he could feel his own blood soaking his crimson cloak and the already drenched stone beneath him.

_How could I have so much blood running in my veins?_

In all his myriad years fighting the creatures of darkness he had never been hurt this badly.  If he could have, he would have laughed bitterly at that idea.

_Of course I have never been so sorely afflicted; such wounds only come once for they are our undoing._

So this was the end.  This was his final stand.  He, who had always held himself aloof would die here in the wretched miasma of filth and despair while the world fell into darkness.

He could feel it, although nothing else was known to him anymore.  As his eyes dimmed and darkened, he could sense it claiming him for its own and he was suddenly consumed with terrible regret, not for what he had done in his long years but for what he had not. 

_To smooth your golden hair one last time.__  To feel its silken caress under my fingers.  To run my bow-callused hands over your wondrous skin and worship you with my kisses… To tell you that I love you as I never wished to until now… I never wished to lower myself to that, even for you, and now it is too late, and perhaps I never shall…_

With one last heroic effort he hauled himself to his knees and peered into the thick gloom.

"I am Haldir of Lorien, and I shall not die like a beast or a weakling on my back in the mire," he cried, and then the deepest midnight overtook him, and he fell.

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His first thought was that he knelt in humble obeisance in pitch blackness, and then all the stars of Varda seemed to blaze before his eyes.  With dawning recognition, he understood that he perceived both one and the other at the same time.  

In the distance monumental pillars glimmered with unearthly light and unearthly darkness.

"Welcome, Haldir of Lorien," a gravely voice intoned, seeming to come from everywhere and nowhere at once.  "Welcome to the Halls of Awaiting where you may yet abide a while."

The voice was neither cruel nor benevolent but a contradiction, as so many things were in this place.

Haldir shuddered and moved to rub his upper arms in a familiar comforting gesture, only to realise that he had neither arms nor hands to chafe them with.  He shivered once again and his fëa cowered before the majestic and terrible presence he could sense but not see.

"How long shall I remain here?" he asked, cursing the quavering note in his voice.

"As long as needs be, child of Ilúvatar," the solemn voice replied, "as long as needs be."

And suddenly he was alone with his own mind and his own memories, vivid as the day they were created.  He retched and retched again in sheer terror.  No moment in that awful battle at Helm's Deep was worse than this solitude.

The voice returned, and it seemed strangely softened.

"Why do you fear, elf-child?" Mandos inquired.  "This is a place of reflection, not of torment, unless you make it thus."

"Is this about … about _him_?" Haldir trembled.  "Is this about my affection for …?"

"Nay, that is not of my concern."  The voice, so doom-laden turned stern and harsh once more.  "Look deeper, March Warden, for only through that may you be freed."

And once again he was left to the questioning silence.  With fear drowning him, he turned inwards in contemplation.

After some time had passed … if time did indeed pass in that place … Haldir became aware of other whispered voices, either mumbling in solitary seclusion or engaged in muted conversation.  Shadowy forms which defied the eye emerged from the gloom and from the unbearable light.

Drifting to one cluster he bowed uneasily.

"I am Elwë … or I was," one shade explained in a melodic voice.  "What is your name, stranger?"

Overawed by the presence of the former King of Doriath, he hesitated before responding, the first light of understanding beginning to dawn in his mind.

"I am Haldir," he simply whispered.  "I claim no other name."

The circle nodded and returned to their contemplation of past deeds, including him seamlessly in their murmurings.

After what might have been an Age, or might have been an instant, he gestured to the forlorn figures debating with themselves in hushed voices poignant with misery.

"Why do they not seek even this comfort?"

"Because they do not choose to, and thus do not see that they might awaken," responded that which had once been Elu Thingol.

Haldir bowed his head and retreated from the group.

"They are at peace," he pondered, thinking of the circle of fear.  "Surely they must soon be released."

He reflected on his own life.

_If only I had…_

_If only I had not…_

He sighed, wishing that he had the breath to do so.

_What if I had…?_

_What if I had not…?_

_I was foolish._

_I sinned._

_I transgressed._

_I was proud._

_I was ignorant, and knew it not._

_I cared not._

_I took, and gave not back._

_I was arrogant, and knew not the hearts of others._

_I was stubborn, and would not see my way._

_I understood not._

_I had not compassion._

_I had not dignity, yet I believed I had._

_I was cruel._

_I was wilful._

_I loved not, nor knew when I did until it was too late._

A chuckle echoed in his ears, almost grim yet mighty in its joy.

… And then there was glorious flooding light.

Haldir squinted against it, astounded by its brilliance, even after the strange luminance of the Halls.

He flexed his fingers, and realised that he did indeed have fingers and they felt new and fresh.

A face appeared above his, a smile brightening the serene features.

"Welcome, Haldir of Lothlorien," its voice sang.

"Where am I?  Am I still in Mandos' care?" he asked.

A peal of musical laughter rang in the air.

"No, little one," the face replied.  "You are in Valinor."

Startled, Haldir sat bolt upright, only just remembering to clutch the thin sheets to his chest.  Seeing his amazement, the sound of the other's amusement lit the sunny chamber once more.

"Yes, Haldir, once of Middle-earth, you are indeed with your kin in the Undying Lands."

"But … but…" he stuttered.  "Why this body?  Surely I should not have been re-housed thus?"

"Do not attempt to understand the ways of Mandos, for it lies not in your power to do so.  Instead be glad and rejoice in regained life."

Slowly becoming more composed, Haldir asked, "What year is it?"

The brow of the maiden furrowed then cleared miraculously.

"It is the four-hundredth year of the Fourth Age in the reckoning of Middle-earth."

"What passes there?" he demanded urgently. 

"We get no news from the Outer Lands, but when the last ship sailed, Eldarion ruled Gondor valiantly and well.  There is no reason to believe that much has changed," she replied.

"Eldarion?"

"Aye, the son of Elessar Telcontar and of Arwen Undómiel."

"The quest of the Fellowship did not fail?  The One Ring was destroyed?" he questioned desperately.

"Indeed the quest did not.  You may ask Olorin yourself to tell you of their deeds," she answered.

"And what of the others?  What of Legolas Thranduilion?"

"The Ring-bearers and Gimli the dwarf sailed to these lands.  He and the hobbits dwelt here until their appointed fate took them," the elf-maiden said leisurely.

She paused and despite his time in the Halls of Mandos Haldir felt impatience rising within him.

"As for Thranduil's son," she finished, "he dwells in the east of these lands, although he is sorely wounded in spirit."

Haldir's heart leapt into his throat with dread.

"Where is he to be found?" he inquired urgently.

"On many a day, I have heard, he looks over the sea to the east," she said blandly, then noticed the blond elf racing from the room.  "Would you not prefer a robe, child?"

Glancing down at his nakedness, Haldir blushed furiously.

"Aye."

He scarcely waited for the soft cloth to be slipped over his head before he fled once more.

In the dazzling street he halted, realising for the first time that in this place he did not know where to go.  Indeed, he knew nothing about these lands.

In desperation, fear welling up inside him, he tugged at the sleeve of a passing elf.

"Can you tell me the way to the lands of Thranduil of Mirkwood and his son Legolas?"

Turning slowly the Noldo caught sight of the fair-haired elf.

"Haldir!" he exclaimed.

With a start, the wood-elf recognised one of the twin sons of Elrond Peredhil.  In a heartbeat he was enveloped in a bear hug by the kin of the Lady of the Wood, and then by another matching embrace.

"You have returned!" Elladan and Elrohir burst out in unison.  "How glad we are to see you!"

They wrapped their arms around their distant kinsman and danced in the middle of the street, disregarding the curious stares of passers-by.  Finally ending their joyous exuberance, Elladan asked, "Where did you wish to go."

"To Thranduil's lands.  I believe they lie in the east."

A sly light flamed in Elrohir's eyes.

"Indeed they do not," he pronounced, "but those of Legolas Thranduilion do overlook the coast there.  Is it him you wish to see?"

Haldir nodded quickly, mute with sudden terror at what might await him.

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Elrohir pointed to a distant hill.  Haldir, sore from the long ride, his new body protesting at the unaccustomed activity, followed the line of that outstretched arm.

"He is usually found there, gazing at the waves … or beyond them," Elladan said, his voice full of amusement at Haldir's nervousness.

Without a word, Haldir charged up the rise, but he soon found his long stride encumbered by mounting trepidation.

In the distance he saw a golden-haired figure silhouetted against the sun, and his footsteps slowed to a funereal pace.  Tentatively, he approached the prince who was staring melancholically out to sea.  At the sight, the burden of his new knowledge nearly broke the fair elf.

_How dare I?  How could I expect this?  Surely he will have taken a new lover to his bed and even into his heart in these long years?  Oh, I am a fool not to have bound him to me._

Nevertheless, he continued on his path until he arrived on the crest of the hill where Legolas kept his lonely vigil. 

Standing close behind the prince who was too enraptured by the vista to notice the intrusion, he murmured, "Mae govannen, Legolas."

The other whirled around and in the movement found himself firmly imprisoned in Haldir's shaking arms.  The prince gaped at the sight before him, hungrily consuming the vision of pale features and deep, newly innocent hazel eyes before him.  Silently, he threw his arms around the newcomer's neck, burying his beautiful face into Haldir's shoulder, his body wracked by sobs.

After a long span of time, he sighed through his tears, "Haldir, melethron, how I have missed you!"

Raising the other's chin from his shoulder, Haldir gazed into the depths of Legolas' cerulean eyes, brimming with tears.  With the utmost tenderness, he cupped the younger elf's face between his hands, brushing away the flowing tears with his thumbs.

In an awed whisper, he exclaimed, "I may have no right to say this, but I love you, Legolas, melethron-nîn."

Before he could continue his declaration he found Legolas lips on his in a breath-stealing kiss.  He parted his lips before the questing tongue, gasping as the other's hands swept the length of his body.  Surrendering to the tide of sweet sensation he sank to the soft grass with Legolas still in his arms.

"You have every right, but never leave me again," the prince pleaded in a hoarse voice.

"Never!" Haldir vowed in tones equally laden with emotion.  "How could I?  I love you so much that I wish never to let you out of my arms.  I merely dare to hope that you will forgive me and accept my love."

"I shall not forgive you."

Haldir lifted one hand to cover his face and sighed.

_As I thought.___

"I shall not forgive you," Legolas repeated, sliding one hand through the silvery hair, "because I understand your actions, and now you are returned to me the deeds of the past hold no bitterness.  Might we live for the moment and share our love without fear or regret?"

In an instant, he was pinned to the grass by Haldir's body, luxuriating in the contact.

"Yes," the other whispered into his lips, and kissed him deeply, and then they were lost in the joy of rediscovering each other, and nothing else mattered. 

Finis

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Fëa – soul, spirit.  (pl. = fear).

Mae govannen – well met

Melethron – (male) lover

Melethron-nîn – my lover.


End file.
